A storm brewed on the horizon.
It was obvious in the foggy gray of the sky, the dense, dark clouds that floated like phantoms overhead. Oikawa smelled the impending rain, felt the humidity in the air that blew across his face from the cracked bus window. He barely heard the first rumble of thunder in the distance over the crunch of gravel beneath the tires.
The storm would be vicious, but Oikawa would have gladly braved the elements if it meant avoiding his destination.
He shifted on the knobby bus seat and chains rattled around his ankles. His wrists were cuffed too, attached to his shackles in a way that left him unable to raise his arms higher than his shoulders.
Oikawa felt that was excessive. They were in the middle of nowhere. Even if he tried to run, they would catch him before he made it fifty yards. There was nowhere to go.
He sighed and leaned his forehead against the window, closing his eyes against the rush of cool wind. He should appreciate this moment before it ended, before he was locked behind a concrete wall and four layers of barbed wire fencing.
Two years; that was how much of his life had been forfeited. He was going to be in a cage for two solid years.
Not for the first time, Oikawa considered how badly he'd fucked up.
"Stop moping."
Oikawa glanced to the side, at his fellow passenger. They were the only two on the bus, aside from the driver. The stranger hadn't spoken since they'd boarded, and Oikawa hadn't minded. Something about him was intimidating. It may have been the sharpness of his eyes, or the scowl that seemed permanently etched onto his face.
Oikawa shuffled his feet with another clank. "I'm not moping. Just not exactly looking forward to prison."
"Don't be a little bitch," the man scoffed. He folded his arms as best he could with the cuffs cinched around his wrists. "It's not so bad. 'Specially not this one. If you were headed to max security you'd have a reason to worry."
"Wait, have you... you've been here before?"
He shrugged. "Yeah, 'bout a year ago."
Oikawa gawked at him. "And you're back already?"
The man smiled. It was sharp and lethal, much worse than his scowl.
The bus rolled to a stop. Oikawa put his hands out to steady himself, but the chains pulled them short. His forehead smacked the seat in front of him and he reeled back with a mumble of protest.
"Let's go, inmates," said the bus driver, pulling the lever to open the door. "Get off so I can get back before the rain starts."
Oikawa peered out the window one last time before climbing to his feet. The sky looked fit to burst at any moment. He thought the driver was out of luck.
His fellow passenger disembarked first, hopping down the stairs as if he wasn't bothered by the shackles. Oikawa followed at a more careful pace, easing his way to the ground. The instant his shoes touched the asphalt, the doors squeaked shut and the bus rumbled away.
They were in a fenced-in yard, just wide enough for the bus to drop them off and turn around. A larger area was visible through the barbed fence, ringed by a narrow paved path. There was a square of asphalt in the middle of the grass and a pair of rickety basketball hoops at either end. There was no one in sight, and Oikawa wondered if the weather had scared them inside or if anyone was even allowed to go outside at all.
His new colleague would know, since this wasn't a new experience for him.
"C'mon," the man said, gesturing Oikawa forward with a toss of his head. "The guards will book us in and give us our shit. They'll take these off, too." He rattled the chains for emphasis, as if Oikawa could mistake what he meant.
